The Kiss

“Do you have any idea how good you smell?” he whispered as he pressed his nose against her neck. Her veins were on fire, the blood pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. His hand was in her hair, kneading her locks into his fingers, the other stroking her back, fingers barely brushing against her skin making her shiver.

“You have to stop,” she pressed her mouth onto the stubbly skin under his jaw. Her lips felt the throb of his vein and she licked it with her tongue, making him take a ragged gasp of air.

“I can’t.” he pressed both of his hands to the small of her back, pulling her against his arousal. “I want you.”

“We can’t.” her hands were wandering around his body, squeezing, caressing, soothing and exciting him. This was so wrong, she knew she shouldn’t even be considering this but it was impossible to stop. With a slow, deliberate move he pressed his hips against hers, circulating them so that she moaned under the sweet pressure. His lips moved against her neck, to her chin, to the side of her lips, then the other side until when he finally brushed his lips against hers, her mouth was open for him.

With a languid move he slid his tongue against her lips and stroked them until hers came to meet him. He deepened the kiss and she could taste him, the sweet, tangy taste and the fresh male scent mixing into a lush nectar. His tongue was caressing her mouth and every cell of her body screamed for the touch of his bare skin against her. Without moving away from her, he started to undress her. She could barely register his movements, all she felt was an onslaught of senses as his hands moved over her body, touching ever inch of the skin he was baring.